


Cherry

by newrromantics



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newrromantics/pseuds/newrromantics
Summary: I am over needing you.Blair Waldorf can't decide whether or not to attend estranged best-friend Serena's wedding.





	Cherry

**Author's Note:**

> I only have a few things to say.
> 
> 1\. I am not an editor, nor have I ever edited. This is unedited. It will be a mess.
> 
> 2\. I wrote this as a challenge to get myself to write. I haven't written in a while, much less anything substantial. It's 14, 330 words which might be the most I've written in years. That hasn't been a chaptered work. This was just me beginning to write as an exercise and the words spilling out. There was no plan. There was no thought process of where it was going. It was a natural development.
> 
> 3\. This is not an accurate reflection of the Gossip Girl characters or universe. It is heavily dysfunctional and heavily AU and very much starting steering away from what I'd ever imagine this particular AU universe as looking like. It's not a reflection of MY feelings or thoughts on the characters or situation I've put them in. It is just one interpretation. I'm always interested in the darker stories. I love Dan and Blair dearly, and I can't really imagine this being a situation they'd find themselves in, but it's what came out.
> 
> 4\. This is set post S2. It includes elements of later seasons in suggestions.

  **CHERRY.**

 

 

_I am over needing you._

_I'm over needing you, too._

 

Blair purses her lips. There has been great loss and great love in her life, great passion and great pandemonium, great success and great short-comings. But there has never been repentance, never any letting-go of the past. She has kept a list of every wrong-doing, her side, and theirs, and she's never forgotten a single deed.

Her fingers hover over her keyboard. Perfect plum nails. One thin band around her third finger, right hand. It mocks her.

 

_You're cordially invited to celebrate the union of Serena van der Woodsen and Henry Worster._

 

Blair sighs. Long, drawn out. Heavy with meaning. For years she'd imagined standing up at the altar, right at Serena's wing, but now she's just surprised to get an invitation at all. Even more surprised to find a name attached to the groom that she doesn't recognise, it rings old money, but brings up no vision of someone she vaguely knows from society galas. But then again, Serena moved on from the New York social scene a few years ago.

There is a part of her that is happy for her, genuinely happy; the sort of happy Blair has perhaps never expressed in true earnest for Serena. She spent so long never feeling any positive emotions about Serena's successes, so long suppressing any happiness for anyone, that she finds it hard to dissect when her emotions of happiness are genuine and when they're a well-learned act. Fleetingly, there is the pang of old jealousy. The jealousy that has always come in spades where Serena is concerned, a bad disease trailing after the two of them. It's what ended them. It's what brought them together. It's what defined them.

But mostly, Blair finds herself feeling indifferent. They're not in each others lives anymore. There is no immense joy that is associated with weddings, there is no painful comparison of who reached what milestone first. There is no intensity attached to that name anymore. There are old feelings, old insecurities, old fading memories. Blair sees the two of them dressed in Lily's many wedding dresses, spinning around the room and holding onto each other. She sees them at one of Lily's many weddings, two girls all dressed up, wondering when this would be them. She sees them lounging in her bed, flipping through wedding magazines and giggling over dreams of marriage, the grooms in the picture their boyfriends at the time. But those are just old memories, ones looked back upon fondly.

She stares at the screen. The bright screen. Yes or no. Serena needs an answer. It'd be impolite to decline, she was, after all offered this invitation out of courtesy, out of some gratitude to their past shared together, all those years proclaiming to be in each-others lives forever, talking about dreams and promising each other the coveted role of maid of honour. Blair has one part of her brain telling her to go out of celebration. For old times sake. To make sure Serena is truly happy, the way she does deserve. Something Blair can admit after all these years.

The other side of her brain wants to press no and send a generic wedding gift in place of her presence. Blair hasn't associated with Serena in years and years, occasionally she'd see her at parties or charity events or opening nights. But it was always just a glimpse of her blonde hair, her golden skin, an echo of a charming laugh that sent shivers down her spine. Once or twice it was a cold, emotionally loaded 'hello' before being whisked away in the opposite direction. It hadn't been a direct conversation since the end of their freshmen year of college, an all-out brawl. Serena required a cast. Blair required stitches. Say no more.

Besides, Blair didn't know anyone in Serena's life anymore. The husband was an anonymous shadow. Their old friends had all gone their separate ways and would feel more like strangers than any actual strangers. Serena's family were ghosts that Blair liked to avoid.

Another sigh. Honestly, she wished she'd never gotten the invitation at all. Eventually, the news would trickle down the grape-vine and she'd run into an old minion who would ask how the wedding was or why she hadn't seen Blair there. Blair would then blink in confusion, before a slow smile settled over her features and she shrugged her shoulders, excusing herself to gather another glass of champagne as she made rounds around the room. She could read about it in the paper, the society pages boasting over the wayward golden girl finally settling down after all these years. She wouldn't read about it on Gossip Girl.

In frustration, she shut the laptop lid closed and stood up from her desk. She had more pressing matters to attend to. They didn't require an RSVP right away - there was still months away until the proposed 'save the date'.

"Melanie." Blair barked as she exited her office, pouncing on the new assistant. She needed a black coffee, one cream cheese and pesto bagel, 24 photo-copies of the magazine's October cover and a wedding gift. Pronto. The wedding gift was for Penelope Shafai's wedding, as if she'd ever deign going. "I need you to run a few errands." She thrust the list into Melanie's hands before giving her a warm, friendly smile and moving on.

Blair tried not to run her business the way she has always operated: in full-bitch mode. There are times where she runs with terror, micro-managing and having bursts of uncontrollable anger, a snipe remark here and there. Blair would confidently say she wasn't the nicest, most understanding, friendliest boss. But she'd also confidently say she wasn't a monster, which is what many would expect of her. In those first few years she ran with a tighter grip, hungry on power and control, and unable to imagine a life where she could trust others with her brand. But she's loosened up, become more approachable, more understanding, relished some of that control and been able to enjoy herself - just a little.

Waldorf Inc. is a mere ten years old in December. Blair launched it a month after she graduated from Columbia, at the ripe age of twenty-two. It had been a mission, but she'd always been a hard-worker, determined to make a name for herself.  _Waldorf_ was her baby, her first-born, a fashion and lifestyle magazine curated specifically to boast her interests. It had remained classic while always being on the cutting edge, innovating herself as the times changed and as she changed, but always keeping the glamour and vintage appeal that had made life easier to get through in her youth.  _Blair_ was the more personal side to the company, the online website that was dedicated to living like her. To put it plainly, it was her blog, but Blair hadn't liked the sound of it and had instead marketed it as a branch of Waldorf - an online, more personal format of her fashion and lifestyle brand.

And to think she'd been pre-law once upon a time.

 

 

"Do you get lonely?" He'd asked her, once, only once, in the middle of the night. Her alarm glared 3:00 AM and she'd glared at him, pulling the sheets up tighter over her body. _Do you ever get lonely._ Blair had spent her life isolated in loneliness, a barrier put up between her and the nearest person ensuring it didn't matter how close she got to anyone, she'd always feel alone. She could spill her deepest, darkest secrets and still feel alone. She wanted to bark at him for asking that question, push him out of her bed and demand he never come back. But she craved the intimacy he brought with him in the dead of the nights. His hands sought her waist, pulling her closer towards him. He was never supposed to stay, he always found a way to do it anyway.

"Never." Blair retorted. "I have everything."

His lips pressed against her jaw, her neck, sloppy. Her whole body tingled, a shiver running up and down her spine. His fingers digging into the skin of her hipbone, slipping down to her thigh, moving until he reached-

"I forgot." He smirked against her skin, pulling her in closer until he could weave his fingers through her hair. He kissed her with no remorse, an abundance of passion and skill. That's what she liked about Carter. He always knew when she was lying but he never said anything about it in words, he said  _I'm here and I know you_ through his touch, through his kiss, through his smirk. Blair finally understood the appeal of his charm after all these years, it had been wasted on her in her youth. But now, she got it. 

 

 

It was a few days later when she ran into Lily at a charity event for children's cancer. She hadn't aged well. It was probably a horrible thing to think, but Blair always thought horrible things. The years had caught up to her, her face fraught with wrinkles and blemishes and botox and plastic surgeries that had only ruined the frail and cold beauty she had once possessed.

"Blair!" She'd exclaimed with delight. After so much time apart it became harder to tell if she was genuine or not, the knowledge of the van der Woodsen women language fading away with age. Blair pressed her lips into a smile, so obviously forced in her eyes, but natural to everyone else as she embraced her. Two kisses in the air on either side of her cheek. "You look wonderful." She complimented, glancing Blair up and down.

Blair no longer tried to think too hard about her appearance. It had only brought her pain.

"Thank you. So do you." Blair replied, eagerly looking for an exit to the conversation. There was Henry Freedwell in the corner, Hazel Williams-Otter by the bar, Leslie Phillips, Richard Wiseman... the list went on, but no friendly faces that could whisk her away. Her eyes landed on Carter in the corner, chatting idly to Georgina Sparks and a light scowl crossed her features that Lily missed.

"I was wondering if you had replied to the invitation yet." Lily spoke, clearing Blair's mind of devious thoughts. She glanced back at Lily in confusion, not understanding what invitation. "For Serena's." She continued, gushing. "Oh, she'd just love it if you came, Blair. I know things haven't been the best between the two of you. But she's getting married!  _My_ daughter." She laughed, shaking her head.

Blair smiled. Her mind was made up on the spot. She'd change it at least a half a dozen times before answering, but in that moment she had no escape other than to agree to attend. "Oh, yes. I'm so..." she searched for the word, "thrilled for her!" The words sounded hollow and fake to her ears but a smile spread across Lily's face, her whole world lit up at the sound of Blair's happiness.

"Oh." She pressed a hand to her heart, shaking her head. If Lily was the type of woman to cry, Blair would have that this would be the moment she'd burst into waterworks. But Lily was barely the type to express this much emotion, she must be going soft, Blair mused. "Blair. You have no idea how much that means to us. I always hoped the two of you would reconcile, put your differences aside." She raises a pointed eyebrow at Blair, as if she's alluding to the fact that she knows why the two of them no longer speak. "The two of you used to be so close. Sisters."

Blair felt uncomfortable. She shifted from one heel to the other. Her eyes sought out the room. Carter was still speaking with Georgina. It made her heart boil a little, a red madness flooding through her veins. He wasn't her boyfriend. He wasn't her anything. But it still made her furious that he'd speak with the she-devil; that's another relationship that had never been mended. She craved a champagne glass. She was ready to excuse herself and make a beeline for the bar. She could do with a harder liquor after this encounter. But Lily kept rambling, a stream of words that didn't reach her hands. Words caught her attention like  _best friend_ and  _special day_ and Blair didn't know how she was supposed to respond. Did she ask about the husband? Did she ask about Serena?

Then her eyes caught sight of him. Leaning against a post, laughing with a woman she's never seen before. He looks handsome in his suit, his unruly curls almost becoming on him. For a second, her breathe catches in her throat - the way it does whenever she sees him, a fact she'll die denying. He fits in to this world like a natural, no longer a gawky outsider on the sidelines. He was one of them. He'd found his way in, too. He'd written a best-seller, then another, and then another. Blair has read every single novel, article, or poem he has had published. She has hated half of them, found them trite, mundane and lacking passion. The other half she has devoured, time and time again, fingers aching from flipping the pages, soul twisted in two as the words burned through her brain for days on end. 

There are words she longs to say to him. She never ends up saying anything to him. Briefly, she wonders if he'll be at the wedding. She supposes that it's a possibility, she was invited after all.

She turns her attention back to Lily, trying to push the image of Dan Humphrey out of sight.

"You'll call her?" Lily asks.

Blair blinks. "Call who?" She asks without thinking.

Lily laughs, oblivious to Blair's wandering mind. "Serena! She'd love to hear from you, Blair." She says softly, gently. "I know she misses you a great deal."

It's funny, Blair thinks, because she thought she'd miss Serena more than she does. She used to think nothing could tear the two of them apart - they'd be tied together for all eternity. No fight, no boy, no drama, no scheme could come between them. They'd conquered so many already, Blair thought they'd be invincible. But it turned out the two of them were just a ticking time bomb. She misses the memory, some days, the Serena that could be so fun and bright and bring out the giddiness in her. But she doesn't miss the insecurity, the lack of confidence, the jealousy that she held whenever she was around her. It's much like the year she was away at boarding school, she'd missed her so fiercely and then she hadn't missed her at all.

Blair wonders if Serena does miss her. What does she miss exactly?

She should be careful with her words here. No fake promises of 'I miss her, too' or 'I'll call her.' Because Blair knows she won't. She still doesn't know if she'll be at the wedding.

"That's so lovely to hear, Lily." Blair speaks. "I'm touched. Thank you." It sounds so mature of her, so sophisticated. A phrase she used to repeat when she was dying to be a society matron. Pearls at her throat, a dazzling husband on her arm. That's not how her life worked out. She excuses herself quickly, before she gets trapped in the web any longer.

She passes Carter on her way to the bar. He catches sight of her, lifting his glass up to her in a greeting, a sly smirk spreading across his face. Georgina is too absorbed in herself to notice the lack of attention on her, unusual for a girl who catches sight of everything. Blair rolls her eyes, then her hips, as she moves towards the bar. She's hoping he'll follow. He always follows.

Shortly after ordering a martini, he's at her side. His fingers splayed against her waist, his breath hot in her air.

"Hi," The words curl around his lips like a song. She shivers a little, feeling a little more alive under his gaze. Her underwear a little wetter.

"Hi." She replies back, turning around to face him once she has her drink. Her fingers curl around the glass, and she looks up at him underneath her eyelashes. He's not a man she thinks she could ever really, truly love; not the way she has loved in the past, but she makes no secret of their special friendship when in public anymore. She curls her fingers around his suit jacket, and she wonders what they are to each other. Friends, lovers, strangers who like to fuck. Her eyes slide to the side, catching sight of Dan once more. He's not looking at her. Carter doesn't say anything if he notices.

"Do you want to get out of here?" He asks, kissing behind her earlobe. His tongue is wet as he slides it around her ear, sucking gently.

She should be embarrassed, she should scream at the indecency. She still lives up to a reputation. But all she can think about is how his tongue feels when it's inside of her.

"Carter." She says, gathering control of herself. She presses her hand against his chest, creating distance between them. He chuckles, taking another swig of his drink and shrugging his shoulders. She licks her lips, regretting pushing him away.

"What were you talking about with Georgina?" She sneers, unable to keep the animosity out of her voice.

"How much I'd love to be fucking you into oblivion." He says, not a missing a beat. "Your apartment or mine?"

It's her apartment. It's always hers.

"That's not funny, Baizen." She frowns, turning away from him. She signals the bartender down and orders another drink.

"Sorry." He apologises quickly, sincerely. That's what she appreciates about him - he's always so sincere, when he needs to be. "Her kid. How boring marriage is. The usual, you know."

She forgets the two of them are friends. She hums in response, tipping the alcohol back into her throat.

Dan is moving from his spot, curling his arm around the woman's waist. Blair wants to throw up. She's beautiful, if you were into redheads; Blair has always thought they were trashy. That deep scarlet red hue just looked whore-ish to her.

"What were you talking about with Lily?" Carter asks, nodding in the direction of her.

Blair casts her eyes downwards. She can't remember the last time she spoke Serena's name out loud, much less to someone who knew her. Blair knows there's some sort of history there, between Serena and Carter, but she's never talked about it with him and Serena was always light on details. She knew there was a fling sometime when she was away, information she only gathered on a drunken night out, some sort of trouble that drove Carter away from Blair when they had their brief affair when she was sinking into her depression in senior year. There was obviously a bond there, of some sort. Blair doesn't know if it was sexual, of course, if it was the two of them, chances are that's all it was. She remembers her freshmen year at Constance, her and Serena invited to one of Carter's infamous parties. Serena and Carter were pushed up against the wall, then the pool table, his fingers underneath her skirt. He'd made eye-contact with Blair the whole time, she'd been unable to look away. Nate had never touched her like that, under the haze of alcohol she was a little entranced. The memory burns into her mind now.

She wonders how at thirty-two she's unable to escape the men that Serena has had a claim on first.

"Serena's getting married." Blair says, "We were just discussing the wedding." Sort-of.

Carter shows no sign of...anything across her face when she mentions her name. She wonders if he shows any emotion when her name is mentioned to him. Or is she just another girl? She doesn't know what answer she'd like to hear.

"I had no idea you and Serena were still friends."

"We're not." Blair snorted, waving down another drink.

 

 

 

Blair calls him when she's drunk, sometimes.

She's curled up in her silk pajamas, alone in her penthouse,  _Sabrina_ playing on silent, her tabby cat curled up against her skin. There's an empty bottle of wine at the edge of her bed she'd discarded earlier, a half-empty bottle in her hands. She has long since stopped using glasses when she's alone. There's no point of pretending for an empty audience. She is much too old to still be playing the same old charade.

He always answers her. "Hey," He says, as if it's normal for her to call him up like this.

"I loved you." Blair says, barely above a whisper, a croak of a cry. She should be so embarrassed, she always is in the morning. But it never stops her from calling, from telling him. He always goes silent once she starts talking. "I really did love you." She says. She never once told him when they were together. He deserves to hear it now. It's too late for them, but she thinks he deserves to hear it. She knows it does him no good, causes nothing but a little bit of pain but he deserves that, too.

"You ruined me, Humphrey." Her hand runs down her skin, hot against her leg. She can feel his touch on her sometimes, still branded on her like a bad curse she can't get rid of. "I'm unable to love because of you."

She feels like a 40s glamorous melodramatic actress, head thrown back in pain. Pretty tears dripping from her eyes, stroking her cheeks. She pushes her silk shorts off of her legs. She can already hear his heaving breathing, can picture him in bed, leaning back and stroking his cock. They do this sometimes. She doesn't know why. She doesn't know how to stop it, either.

"I saw you the other night." She says, gasping as she presses her fingers against herself. She's already so wet, basically throbbing for him. She gently strokes herself. "You with a redhead. I'd say she was pretty, but," she opens her folds, grinding herself down into her bed.

"Fuck," She hears him on the other end. It's not to her.

"I'm prettier. Tell me I'm prettier." She feels so young when she says it, demanding this from him. Blair has long since graduated from being insecure, but she needs to hear it now. It feels like life is catching up to her. Serena is getting married. Her friends have all settled down. Blair has only fractured relationships in life. Unhealthy, consuming, she doesn't know how to quit them. She was never taught how to have a proper relationship of any kind.

He never says anything. She doesn't know if that makes her feel better or worse. She thinks she'd hang up if he spoke to her directly. This way she can write off the encounter as a feverish dream, a hazy nightmare she can forget about once the sun rises again. She curls her fingers into her, biting down on her lip. He used to be better at this. Blair has always craved the touch of someone else more than she's craved her own touch, it always feels better to have someone else with her, no matter how well she does it herself.

"I was so good to you, baby." It's a lie. Blair was awful. She was obsessive and cold and manipulative and then she was loving and affectionate and giving. She was a rollercoaster. Dan wasn't any better. But she thinks she could have been worse, during the good parts. He ruined it. He ruined them. "I loved you. I would have been with you forever." She cries, she always says so much to him that she shouldn't be saying at all. She wants to take it back, and she doesn't feel so good anymore. She pulls her fingers away from herself and she listens as he cums on the other end.

"I hate you so much." She swears. "I could never look at you again. The sight of you sickens me to my core."

It feels hot. Scandalous. It feels dirty.

She hangs up.

 

 

Carter brings her flowers on Friday morning.

 

 

Eleanor calls her on Sunday evening.

Blair is in the middle of doing a face-mask and reviewing next months budget.

She picks it up, her first mistake.

"Hello mother." She answers.

"Blair." Is the curt response.

Blair rolls her eyes, feeling like a child eager to please a mother who's incapable of loving her all over again. The scars are still there from her youth, invisible under the layers of designer clothes and diamonds thrown at her to appease her.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Blair asks, curious as to why she's called. Their usual set time of 'catching up' is set every three months at 7:00 PM on a Thursday night. This is not their set time.

"Can't a mother call her daughter?" Eleanor asks.

Blair bites back her response. There is no longer any use in creating tension between them. In her early twenties, Blair had done just that. She had been sick of the mistreatment and had rebelled totally by cutting off any contact, slandering her mother's name in one of her early magazine prints. The friction that that period caused is still being repaired. Blair blames Humphrey, but she blames him for a lot of things she did wrong.

"Sure." Blair replies cheerily, "But why are you calling?" She says pointedly. It's as scathing as she can possibly get away with, her chest burning with all those years of neglect.

"I heard your friend Serena is getting married." Blair has to roll her eyes. Of course Eleanor is only calling her because  _Serena_ is getting married. Years and years since Blair and Serena have spoken and she's still this ghost hovering over her. Serena! Serena! Serena! She can only imagine Eleanor's grilling about when Blair is finally going to be married, doesn't she know she's not a real woman until she gets married?

"Yes, I heard that, too." Blair replies. No need to cause drama by reminding her mother that her and Serena are mere strangers with a shared past history.

"Lovely girl. I was so fond of her." Eleanor replies dreamily, wistfully.  _Why couldn't that be my girl?_  

"Yes."

"Are you going?"

Blair pauses, throwing her head back. She should. She knows she should.

"I have to check my calendar." Blair answers.

"Blair," Eleanor abolishes. "She's your best friend!"

"Was." Blair snaps, "She was my best friend. I haven't spoken to her in years, mom."

Eleanor is silent. "Well. Who's fault is that?"

Blair thinks: Dan. Blair thinks: me.

"I'll see if I can make it."

 

 

Dan used to read to her.

She misses that the most.

 

 

Blair has her laptop open at work. The RSVP for Serena's wedding a threatening force staring back at her.

There is vodka in her coffee to help her make this decision.

Blair doesn't feel brave enough to say either yes or no.

_Get over yourself, B!_ She imagines Serena squealing.  _It's me. It's me. It's me. It's me..._

Blair presses  **YES** and shuts her laptop close, taking a large gulp of her Irish coffee.

 

 

Carter rolls off of her, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Blair feels deliciously happy as she curls herself around him, his arm slinging over her shoulder to bring her in closer towards him.

Lately, she feels like she's been depending on him more than usual. He's been acting more boyfriend material, too, she muses. He brings her lunch, sometimes, and they walk through Central Park holding hands. He always calls her beautiful and sweet. The sex is always amazing.

Her phone ringing breaks her out of their bliss and she remembers that she should be keeping her heart guarded. This isn't anything that means anything. It's an unknown number flashing on screen, she looks at the time and finds it unusual for someone to be calling so late. She has a bad feeling when she answers, hoping it's not an emergency about her parents. There is no one else she cares for her in her life that it could possibly be.

"Blair?" An uncertain voice asks. It feels like the air has been suck out of her lungs all of a sudden. "I know it's late. I hope it's alright, me calling you. So late. Um, I got your phone number from Lily. She says hi." Serena rambles nervously. Blair can picture her sitting at a table, up late wedding planning, tucking her hair behind her ear. Serena always did that when she was nervous.

"Yes. Hi. It's fine." Blair breathes out, she moves away from Carter. Pulling herself out of bed and gathering her robe. She feels like this is a private conversation and enters the bathroom, locking it behind her. She sits on the edge of the tub and looks at herself in the mirror. She has aged a little, not noticeably but enough that she feels guilty. She wonders if Serena still looks as fresh and as beautiful as ever, she bets she does. Stupid bitch.

"How are you? I saw that you RSVP'ed going to my wedding. I'm so happy you can make it, B!" The old nickname startles her. The softness and excitement in Serena's voice. Maybe love mellowed her out. Made everything else seem irrelevant.

"Yeah. Congratulations, by the way. I was touched to get an invitation." Blair replies earnestly, a smile spreading across her face.

"Of course!" Serena exclaims, _no big deal, B!_ "You're one of my oldest friends. I want you there."

"I would never miss it." Blair says. She thinks it might be the truth. It doesn't matter what has happened - she thinks she'd always turn up for Serena if asked.

"I know." Serena says, there's a sad tinge to her voice and it hits both of them that there is a sea empty between them. An awkwardness of absence that might never feel normal again.

"I hope you're happy, S." Blair says sincerely, feeling her heart softening just a little.

"I am." Serena says, and Blair can hear it in her voice. The blissful sigh. She can see the glow to Serena's skin now, the halo above her head, the wings growing out from her. Serena's in love. Serena is happy. "I'm so happy. He makes me so happy, Blair. He's wonderful. The most wonderful man."

Blair wonders what that is like. The men she's had have been wonderful in their own ways, but they've never been wonderful to her. It must be easy to be wonderful for a girl like Serena, she thinks. Love must come so naturally to her. Boys have always fallen head over heels for her. She's the kind of woman they'd start wars for. Blair is the kind of woman they leave for Serena.

"I'm so happy for you." Blair says, she thinks she might start crying soon. Overcome with more emotion than she cares to admit. "I hate to say this, but I actually have to go. I'm sorry, Serena." She doesn't wait for a response, she hangs up and thrusts her phone across the room. She looks at herself in the mirror. Her shoulders are sunken, her face a little grey, and she has no great love in her life. She has her magazine, she has a friend she relies on for sex, she has an ex boyfriend she calls drunk and makes a fool of herself to, she has a mother that will never truly love or care for her, she has a handful of friends that mean nothing to her.

Blair suddenly wants so much more. She has hid behind her career for so long. Blaming her work-load for an empty personal life. But she doesn't want to hide anymore. She stifles her sobs, her eyes trained on herself in the mirror. There has always been a fascination of watching herself fall apart, the way she can see the cracks in herself as she breaks down. She feels vindicated by her pain. She deserves it. She doesn't deserve it at all. She's never wanted pity but she wants somebody to care for her, maybe. She switches it off.

I'm fine. She reassures herself. Picking herself up and rubbing at underneath her eyes. She pulls at her robe tightly, twisting it together. She exits the bathroom to find Carter getting dressed, he flashes her a smile and says he's on his way. He never leaves. He's always supposed to leave.

"Do you think you can love me?" Blair asks, needing the answer.

His silence says everything she needs to know.

 

 

He cheated on her.

Dan.

Isn't that a classic?

One minute they were talking engagement and children and moving into a bigger townhouse together, and the next they were talking blondes with blue eyes and broken condoms and abortion costs.

He got a girl pregnant. That girl wasn't her.

 

 

Isabel and Kati meet her for lunch at The Penrose.

"I saw Dan the other day, he's so yummy." Kati gossips.

Isabel shoots her a glare.

"Who?" Blair says, which shuts Kati up for good. Some girls don't mature from high school.

"Who are you taking to Serena's wedding?" Isabel asks. Both girls have long since been married. Kati twice, Isabel thrice.

Blair shrugs her shoulders as she takes a sip of her coffee. "I wasn't planning on having a date."

Both girls look at her as if she's lost her head.

"I don't need one." Blair defends her choice. "Women do not need to have dates for weddings."

Kati and Isabel ignore her, preparing her with a list of boys she could take. They all sound boring to her, an evening spent in even more misery. She didn't need to be dragged down by a boring date at an event she was already going to feel out of place at. Then again, she supposes she should take someone. She could have taken Carter. She suddenly regrets their goodbye; her saying thank you as he left her penthouse, then crying herself to sleep. They'd spoken once since, to agree they would no longer see each other. She doesn't know who ruined it, or if it was just doomed from the start.

"Oh my god, Blair." Kati exclaims. "Take Nate."

Isabel adds, "Archibald." As if Blair would be clueless to who they were talking about. Both girls are nodding eagerly, as if this is the most fabulous idea they have ever had in their life.

"Yes, you have to! He just broke up with Charlotte, so he'll be needing a date too." Kati adds.

"And you know Serena would have invited him, already, so you don't need to ask for a plus one!" Isabel tacks on.

"Yeah, the two of them are still super close. Best friends." Kati nods.

Blair feels a little sick at the thought of Nate and Serena, still thick as thieves. Blair and Nate had still been friends up until her and Dan's breakup. He was one of the people Dan won when it was all over. But she does admit, it's not a bad idea. Nate and Blair have always been close, they have history, she's always loved him, has always thought he'd be the one she'd marry -

In fact, Blair curls her lips in a smile, it might just be fate. Maybe they were suppose to be together after all. Blair's finally realising she wants love back in her life and they propose Nate as a suitor for her ex-best friend's wedding? Isn't that kind of magical? She could imagine Audrey in this role, unsure of who to take and then suddenly her dashing ex is back in the picture.

It'd also drive Serena insane. Just a little.

(Blair might not be over all the jealousy, after all).

"I might just give him a call."

 

 

She dreams of Dan.

His smile, crooked, out of frame. The way his hair would fall into his face, unruly, disgusting, she loathed it. His kind eyes, how they'd never stop looking at her when he was serious, when she needed him to keep her grounded to this earth. His fingers, twisting around hers in comfort, the warm touch of his hand simply holding hers. His voice, soft and serious and sleepy, reciting poetry she's never heard before. His laugh, a beautiful symphony.

She dreams in fragments.

He'd been so annoying to her in high school. She'd hated him so much. He was just as smart as she was, and it both frustrated her and excited her that she had found someone who matched her in intelligence and wit. She looked down on Serena for keeping him around, his fashion sense and zip-code humiliating to a teenage Blair who'd worshipped class. His holy-than-thou attitude, his righteousness and moral code had been downright infuriating. But there had been moments...his lack of judgement, his understanding, his empathy. It had taken Blair aback, nobody had ever treated her with such kindness and this was a boy she'd spent her whole time knowing making fun of and medalling so her best friend would break up with him.

Each time they were left together she found them getting closer, his appeal finally becoming apparent. He did have charm. Wit. Taste. Blair hated him even more after that, resolved to never spend time with him again. His lack of perfection coming to light with his affair with Rachel Carr. Blair wanted to never see him again, but -

She was intrigued. She hated that she was intrigued. Serena and Dan broke up, for good. Serena left for a whirlwind summer vacation and didn't talk to Blair once. Blair was in love with Chuck.

She dreams of Dan now; she sees his kindness and humour and safety, his reassurance and trust. His fingers playing a piano, badly. Blair hovering over him, clicking her tongue at him as she tries to teach him. Curled up in his lap as they argue about Tolstoy versus Hemmingway. The two of them sitting at a movie theatre, their first maybe date, stiff, as they watched Gone with the Wind.

Blair had been at NYU that first year. As had Dan. They'd both been in the dorms on campus, only a few rooms apart. Blair still can't figure out how it really happened. They shared a lot of classes together, both taking literature. Serena was still in Europe. Blair and Chuck were falling apart.

_He cares about me, S!_ Blair remembers shouting, full of anger when her best friend returned. It's not what broke them up, not right away.

He kissed her, first. Leaning over nervously, her TV playing Gaslight. His hands grabbing hold of her face, his eyes piercing and full of fear and full of.. vulnerability. Blair remembers thinking that this was meaningful, her heart beating loudly in her chest. He'd quickly become one of her best friends, the two of them running around in secret. He had closed the gap,  _just to see if there was anything more than friendship_ , and she'd felt a surge of emotion. It had almost been too much to handle, she wanted to run away from it all.

But she had stayed.

 

 

Blair washes her mouth out with champagne and orange juice in the morning before texting Nate.

_Hi, Nate._

_It's Blair. I was wondering if you didn't already have a date for Serena's wedding, if you'd want to go together. For old times sake?_

_Love, Blair._

She sends it without reading it over. She's ready to live without fear once again.

But then she realises it's not in her nature and studies it for the next two hours while she waits for him to respond, figuring out where she could have made it better. If he doesn't respond yes, if he doesn't respond at all.. Blair goes into panicking mode, what if he's got a new number?

_Hey Blair,_

_I'd love to._

_Lots of love, Nate._

She guesses it wasn't so bad after all. She feels sixteen all over again.

 

 

"You hated me." Dan laughs, throwing popcorn at her.

Blair frowns.

"I did not  _hate_ you. I simply strongly did not like you very much."

"Or at all." Dan points out.

 

 

Blair goes shopping with Kati and Is for a new dress to wear to the wedding. The two of them are gossiping about the girls Serena has ordered as her bridesmaids. Kati makes a claim that Serena basically bought out a bunch of skinny, rich, white clique of Los Angeles models to stand up next to her because she's struggled to make friends by herself. Isabel is saying, that's ridiculous because she's Serena and people like her wherever she goes, and besides, who would hire hot girls to stand up next to them on their wedding day? That point shuts Kati up, who shrugs and says that's just what she heard.

Blair listens along with little interest. It has crossed her mind who Serena will have up there with her. She supposes Is and Kati could have once been up there, that maybe they're feeling a little jealous and lost since the day is rolling around and neither have been asked. Blair knows that Isabel asked Serena to be a bridesmaid but she was in Spain shooting a movie and couldn't even make it, but sent her best wishes and all her kisses. Blair was a bridesmaid. She had read the note at the bachelorette party, the whole gaggle of girls eating chocolate covered strawberries with champagne and making fun of her.

Serena had turned to acting once she'd moved out of New York, but she'd never really made it. She was a terrible actress. Overdramatic, stale, a little stiff. But she was pretty and pretty meant it didn't matter if she could act or not. She still kept getting bit parties in movies, big movies too, but she was always only given a line or two. Maybe a sex scene if she was lucky. Penelope still jokes that her acting is better suited to porn. Blair can't help but agree.

Serena got the love of her life, but Blair won on the career scale. She's built herself an empire. Serena has spent her whole life jumping from one bright thing to the next, never satisfied with any of it. That feels like a small success to Blair.

"Oh, this one is so cute!" Kati pulls out a baby blue mullet dress that makes Blair visibly gag.

"Kati, I will never fucking talk to you again if you wear that." Blair says coldly, before turning her back to the girls and continuing to look through the racks. She wants to find the most spectacular dress she possibly can. It has to be age appropriate, classy but sexy, definitely eye-turning. She wants to both show Serena that she can still be considered beautiful and she wants to show Nate that she's still a catch.

She hasn't been able to stop thinking about Nate since he first popped back into her mind. It seems so silly to her now that she had ever let him go. It had felt so final and fitting at the time, at prom, when they'd broken up. It had seemed like the end. But looking back on it, Blair isn't sure if that was the case. She thinks maybe she was scared, she'd only ever had Nate, and she had the chance to open her heart up to different kinds of love. Nate had already been in love with two girls, possibly a third, by that time. But Blair had only ever loved him, and foolishly, Chuck. But Nate had been her only proper relationship, her only love. She needed something else to know what else was out there. Now she's had boyfriends come and go, great loves and great lovers, great pain, too. But Nate is still the man she's ended up thinking about. He's still there, willing to step in when she guesses she might really need him the most.

The realistic part of her brain is telling her that she's regressing. That she knows Nate and her were final and over, that they could have a great friendship now, again, like they once did. But the bigger, stronger part of her brain is telling her that this is fate; the magic of love she used to dream of; a fairytale romance about to come true. This whole situation feels so high school to her that she can't help but fall back into bad habits of daydreaming, making herself the star of a movie.

Nate had always played the leading man.

She shifts through dresses of pale pinks and creams and silks and chiffons and feels defeated. She wonders if bringing Nate to Serena's wedding is a good idea, if it'll break the fragile truce that has somehow been created through an invitation and one odd, feverish conversation. Nate had always belonged to Blair, but he'd always also belonged to the both of them, too. He'd been their first fight, as early as six years old, on the playground. Nate had wanted to play with Blair, but Serena had wanted him to play with her. Blair had told Serena that her and Nate were playing 'grownups' so Serena can't play with them and she had to play with herself. This had caused Serena to shove Blair into the bark. This had in return had Nate coming to Blair's rescue, proving to her that he was the right one for her. See, it wasn't until later that his attention had shifted from Blair to Serena. In their childhood it had always been Blair Nate had wanted, she was the girl he trailed after, only giving Serena attention to be polite. But around the age of ten, things started to shift.

Blair doesn't want to think about it. Nate became fickle with his emotions, as he switched between Blair and Serena, telling them he loved them both but couldn't decide who was his best friend. Of course, everyone knows that Blair won his heart, but as soon as they were officially dating his interest shifted over to Serena. It was always Serena. She was always stealing everything she could from Blair, with that wicked smile and wicked heart. It's only typical that the one time Blair steals someone from her, Serena ends their friendship - like she hadn't been doing it first.

She slams a dress back into other and twists around in frustration. She doesn't want to think about that anymore. She doesn't think she even wants to go anymore. Kati and Is are playing dress up, complimenting each other still, in matching dress styles, just in opposite colours.

"You look ridiculous." Blair spits. "There's nothing here. We're leaving." Blair orders, storming out without waiting for either of them.

While outside, she pulls out her pack of cigarettes and lights one. It's a bad habit she picked up in France, the year after Dan Humphrey broke her heart. She thinks she's never had it mended since. Lately, she hasn't been able to stop thinking about him at all. She wonders how he's doing, if he's happy. She hopes he's not. She thinks she wants to call him, tonight, drunk as she possibly can be, one last time before she quits him for good. Tomorrow she's going to give up smoking, too. She makes these promises as she waits for Kati and Is. She might even see a therapist, learn how to become happy again. Perhaps she can be the girl she thought she'd always be. She wonders if she's made herself proud.

She is going to transform herself overnight. By the time the wedding rolls around she wants to be the best possible version of herself. Someone that is so spectacular Serena can't help but in awe of her, that would really show her. Blair can feel the tell-tale pricking at her eyes that means she's going to start crying, she feels so hopeless somedays, she can't help it. Is this what adulthood is? Feeling broken until you can't breathe.

Kati and Isabel tumble out of the store, bags underneath their arms. "We found our dresses, B." They inform her.

"Good god." Blair mutters, tossing her cigarette on the ground and looking at Kati and Is until one of them stubs it out for her. Kati rushes to the rescue, eager to please after all these years. Blair misses her control sometimes, the kind of control she had over people who feared her for no real reason other than social suicide. Other times she misses her youth because she wants to give up all control, take back the years of her life she stole and be happier. It feels hard to grow up now when she's spent so many years being one way. It's hard to break patterns.

"Did you find anything?" Isabel asks.

Blair rolls her eyes. "Does it look like I found anything?"

"You have to look so hot for Nate." Kati continues.

Blair looks ahead, down the road, and wonders about stepping in front of a truck. Suicidal ideation. She wonders why she still hangs around these idiots when all they make her want to do is gouge her own eyes out. Blair had had a wonderful group of friends, a sophisticated bunch of pretentious intellectuals. They'd all sided with Dan. It turns out Blair is never anyone's favourite.

 

 

Blair finds a dress.

 

 

Carter wants to meet for lunch, unexpectedly.

Blair agrees. She dresses in cigarette pants, a warm brown sweater, cat-eye sunglasses, a red lip.

He greets her with a kiss, his arm wrapped around her waist. He orders himself a seafood salad, and she orders eggs.

Carter says he's sorry, that he loves her but he doesn't think it's the way it's supposed to be, you see, he's not a one woman guy and-

Blair stops him. "I don't love you, Carter. It's okay. I care for you, but I'm not in love with you." She thinks that will solve it, put the issue to bed and then they can continue being friends. But his face falls unexpectedly,

"I was going to say, for you I could be."

 

 

Blair asks her therapist on her first appointment if she thinks she's a horrible person. Her therapist, Monica, says she doesn't know her yet. Blair says you can tell when you look at someone, sometimes you just know, you see a woman and you can tell she has no real soul. It's all about entitlement, she explained. I have it in spades. I need control. I need to control everyone and everything about me. I don't know how to open up emotionally. I haven't felt any real happiness in two years exactly. I had a miscarriage. I'm empty. My ex-best friend is getting married.

It all spills out of Blair. Her guts laid bare in front of a stranger she has to pay to listen. She wonders if other people have friends they can confide in, happily going to brunch together and crying their hearts out in understanding. Even with Serena she'd never been open with her emotions, not really, her feelings only ever came out in anger.

Is it normal to not have friends? Blair asks. She has 'friends' - people she knows, people that work for her, a social circle she sees around, a book club she stopped going to because she felt so ill. Do you think I'm depressed. She asks this at the end. The word feels stale on the tip of her tongue. She wonders if she has always been depressed. She wonders if she has always had something wrong with her, a reason to explain why she acts the way she does. Blair loves excuses, she's never wanted this excuse, but now she'll take it greedily if it means it'll absolve her of all wrong-doing.

I don't want to be evil anymore. She begs and she cries and she doesn't turn up for her next appointment.

 

 

Blair spends Christmas alone.

She spends New Years at Nelly Yuki's annual party. It's a mix of Constance alum, Yale alum and journalists scattered about. Blair has always declined the invitation, but she had nothing to do this year and these are the people she'd get along with best. Her and Nelly had always been foes but there had always been a certain kinship underneath it. Blair had always been terrified of people being better than her that she pushed anyone on her level away and surrounded herself around girls she felt like she didn't have to compete with.

Nelly greets her at the door, more warmly than Blair expects or deserves. "It's so nice to see you, Blair." Nelly says. She looks beautiful, in a dazzling black number and a swelling belly that hints that she might be having baby number two.

It looks like everyone is getting on with their lives except for Blair. "You too." She replies, surprising herself when she finds she means it.

Inside she finds herself in awe of the creation Nelly Yuki has built. Her daughter runs about in a tea-green princess dress, jumping up and down, offering to perform a show for anyone who wants to see one. Blair feels touched by the display, crouching down until she's at the young girls level and tells her she'd love to see one. The girl spins around and around and around, breaking out into a 70s style dance. Blair dissolves into giggles and claps and looks on at amazement at how open and free the little girl seems to be. It hurts suddenly, that Blair finds herself without a child.

Nelly swoops in, apologising for Helena's display. Blair furrows her brows and tells her it's the most entertainment she's had in months. Let the girl be. Nelly looks relieved that Helena has entertained Blair and leaves the two of them alone. Helena grabs Blair's hand, drags her through every room, singing a song Blair doesn't recognise and telling her that she has so many secrets and if Blair wants, she could tell them to her. Blair says sure and listens on about the lives of dolls Helena has made up.

Blair wants this suddenly. Of course, that's when she spots Dan.

 

 

"Was it Serena?" Is Blair's first question, because to her, it's always Serena. For Dan it's always going to be Serena.

He says it wasn't. She isn't sure if she believes him.

 

 

He looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Blair crosses her arms over her chest and tells Helena that she has to talk to a friend, she'll catch her later.

It's about time Blair faced him. It's been five years since they broke up. It's been long enough to bury the hatchet, bury the hurt.

"Hi." Blair greets him, strangely and nervously, gentle and timid. She's afraid he might walk away from her. She was not the easiest person to be around after their breakup. It was not an easy betrayal to get over.

"Hey," He says, his head ducking down. He shoves his hands in his pockets.

Blair misses his little quirks. She misses him. It hurts so much to still miss someone she spent years hating. It doesn't seem fair to her. He gets to move on freely with his life after creating a hurricane in her life and she still aches for him. It makes her feel weak, a little girl unable to move on from the past. She wants to be over him for good. She wants to hear his name and not go weak. But she's not sure that's even possible for her. For some people it's not. Some women are always stuck in the past, forty-something with their hands wrapped around a glass of wine and still banging on about the irredeemable men who have left them.

Dan left her.

"How is Katrina?" Blair asks. Her mouth feels full of cotton. Full of heavy liquid. Sharp spikes. Uncomfortable as the words tumble out. She's seen the pictures of the little girl, the stunning brown eyes she gets from her dad, the blonde curls from her mother. A nameless and faceless woman in Blair's nightmares. She seems like a sweet kid. Blair feels guilty for being envious of a child, but she can't help it; part of her wants to loathe the child, the physical destruction of everything that destroyed her and Dan, but she can't hate a little girl. Rufus sometimes has her around the gallery, and sometimes Blair still visits. It's always felt like coming home.

"She's good." His whole face lights up at the mention of his daughter. Grinning from ear to ear. She'd always believed he'd make a wonderful father. He was understanding. He was kind. He was good. She's read two of the books he's dedicated to Katrina. Her name printed at the front,  _to the best girl in the whole world, K._ Blair remembers when she'd been printed in his dedications, her name standing strong and tall and proud. The winner of all the women that had been in love with him. An infatuation she hadn't understood until she was hanging onto his every word, wondering when he'd return her secret affections. Sometimes she wishes she had never met him. Life would be so much easier without him in it; she would have married Nate, or someone like Nate, or Chuck even - which is a thought that makes her feel a little sick, because he's hurt her the most out of all of them.

"I'm glad." Blair nods stiffly. It feels strange to hold a conversation with him. The only time they speak is never.

He looks like he's on the verge of saying something. Blair imagines his heartfelt confession of sorry. She thinks about forgiving him, entertains the thought of taking him back. Her penthouse is so lonely with only one of her. There's even an extra room for Katrina. But she'd been foolish and forgiven him after he cheated, the other woman pushed to the back of her mind after a month spent of spiteful hating him, until she decided she couldn't live without him;  _come back to me_ , she had wished and then she'd had him back. But he had still left her.

Dan had broken her heart. Her trust. Then he'd still left her in the end.

"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" He asks, she gives him points for his bravery. She wonders if she's gone soft now. He made her soft. He made her edges a little less harsh, taught her that it was okay to laugh, to relax her bones and joints and muscles. She didn't have to live in tension. She wonders if he left her because she's incapable of love without bargains, without games, without trust issues. She wonders why he cheated on her. Blames herself for his mistake, the way women have always been taught to do. Blair had always wanted to be brave, strong, confident, unweighed down by any man. Dan had given her the freedom to be that woman until he'd taken it away. She wonders if she'd ever been a strong, powerful woman if she had relied on him so heavily; she hadn't even noticed until he was gone.

Blair isn't sure which answer would make her look more powerful: yes (because I'm over you and I'm over the pain and the hurt and the betrayal and I can put it behind us) or no (because I'm over you and I'm over the pain and the hurt and the betrayal and there's nothing there anymore). Blair can't decide what she wants to do. If she could stomach being around him for many than thirty seconds in a crowded room, feeling herself sinking into the ground. In a quiet setting, wouldn't it be worse? With only each other for company. He's all she sees now. He's all she sees ever. She wonders how he got over the two of them, if he already had one foot out the door while she was planning their life together. Eight years together he could throw away without a second glance. Blair is too sentimental of a person to be able to forget.

She wonders if it hurts so much because he was so good for so long, until the end when he was a different person to her. A stranger with the face of a man she loved. Blair has always thought the great loves hurt the most. Blair has stopped wanting to hurt for a long time now. Maybe they were never supposed to be. A glitch in the universe that happened unexpectedly, outstaying their welcome, so the universe had to fix the course of their lives and drive them apart. Or maybe she's living in the wrong universe, and in another, they're happy together. She wants to know if he's happy without her. She hopes he's not. She hopes he is.

"I'd love that." She says unexpectedly, before she's even weighed up the pros and cons of each option. She feels a little freer with the words.

Relief floods across Dan's face, and she hadn't noticed he'd been holding in his own breath until now. Dangerously waiting to see if she'd spin on her heel and leave him behind in the dust or cross the threshold and make peace with their past. They've both spent enough time wandering around each other like hurt strangers, carrying the pain of years on their backs, with no words to figure out; both writers in their own way, but the other made them silent now. He steps forward, and for a second she can feel the touch of his hand and the touch of his kiss and she can imagine the two of them at this party, as a couple, arm and arm. Making fun of everyone the way they used to do, conspiring in the corner, she'd tell him all the latest gossip and he'd roll his eyes and share tidbits of his own. It's not nice, Blair, he used to say with a laugh. Then she'd tell him it's all research, Humphrey.

He used to spin her around on the dance-floor. Their bodies fitting together perfectly, moving in sync. He hadn't been able to dance when they first met, or when they first started dating. Serena had been a loaded name throughout their relationship, but she had still joked about her not having taught him anything, how could she put up with you? The unspoken words of  _she hadn't, she left me_ hanging in the air between them. Blair would lean her head against his chest when she was tired, and he'd stroke her hair with his fingers, humming Moon River under his breath because he knew it made her feel settled. Those had been the good days, the early days.

He puts his hand on her shoulder now. It's not an electric jolt through her body like she imagines it would be. "I've missed you." He says, and maybe she would have run in the opposite direction a few years ago; maybe she'd have reacted the way a younger Blair would, with disgust and anger. But the truth is she's missed him, too. She's missed his friendship.

It's still too raw to tell him. A truth she can't admit here in this room.

It feels like a new year already.

"I know." Blair wraps the words around her lips, a friendly smile for him, a small laugh shared between them. The way old lovers do when a tinge of the past hits them. An inside joke made for just the two of them. He hesitates for a second before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into a loose hug. Blair hesitates for a second longer before returning it. It feels like a truce being called. Then she pulls away and excuses herself, barely making eye contact as she leaves him behind. He is nothing more than a memory to her some days, and now she can't get the feeling of his weight off of her mind.

She finds Nelly Yuki again and thinks about making amends with her, too, but the smile she gives her from the other side of the room is enough for her. Blair spends the night wandering around, conversing with people she's never spoken to before, flirting a little with one of Nelly's Yale classmates. He's a lawyer, in a sharp suit, and likes superhero movies and Blair thinks everybody has their faults as she sips her martini and keeps her eyes trained on his face, all while thinking about the face of another.

Helena drags her off at points, showing her all around the lavish townhouse Blair could never have imagined Nelly living in.

The clock ticks down. Ten, nine, eight, seven.

The lawyer is hanging around her, but she's just staring into her glass.

Six, five, four, three.

She lifts her eyes up just in time to spot Dan.

Two, one.

Happy New Year! The lawyer swoops in for a kiss and Dan waves to her and she turns her head so the lawyer just gets her cheek, and she laughs in the direction of Dan who shakes his head. He used to be her new years kiss. Eight years in a row. Five without.

 

 

She wraps her fingers around the cord of her telephone, toes curling.

She misses her father. He tells her about how much France misses her.

Blair thinks about moving.

Does New York have anything left to offer her anymore?

 

 

She meets Nate for coffee.

He tells her she looks beautiful, hasn't aged a day, he always knew she wouldn't. She imagines the summers of her youth spent curled up into him, hanging onto his every word. Blair wonders why she's let men dictate her life and feelings for so long. He kisses each of her cheeks, the touch lingering as she sits down opposite him. He looks as good as he did when she last saw him. Charming and tan and blonde and Nate. He smells the way old summers used to, the stretching sea and the expensive cologne she always bought for him. He uses it, even now.

He tells her he's not friends with Dan anymore; as if this is some comfort to her. Blair shrugs her shoulders, says she might be making amends with him. Doesn't divulge any more information when Nate presses. It feels easy with him in the cafe, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm. Blair always used to pretend with him, but she also was able to feel light when she was with him. Easy, with no pressure, when she didn't put the pressure on herself. He jokes about his newspaper, his grandparents who are still alive and kicking surprisingly, his cousins. Blair asks about the ones she remembers, laughs at the old family jokes, they trade memories.

She tells him she thinks he's turned out just fine, after all these years. It feels right being here with him, not in the way she thought it would be. But right all the same.

The topic shifts to Serena, the way she expected it would.

"Who can believe she's getting married?" Nate laughs, shaking his head in amusement. Blair remembers Nate and Serena being briefly involved when she first started dating Dan, this was after they stopped speaking but before the stitches and the cast. It hadn't lasted, because Serena gets bored of boys easily, and she was only with him at some attempt at stirring jealousy up. He's always loved her more than she's ever loved him. The only boy Serena's ever been able to love is Dan, and Blair took that away from her. She guesses she's loved other boys since, Blair has read about them, but knowing Serena they've all been frivolous affairs. She hopes this ones not.

"I never thought I'd see the day." Blair speaks. It has a double meaning: Serena settling down? Serena inviting her estranged friend Blair?

Nate laughs, shaking his hair out. "I always knew you two would find your way back. I didn't think it would take this long."

_We're not friends._ Blair wonders if Nate thinks her and Serena are besties again, arms looped, shopping on Fifth.

"Hm." Blair replies.

 

 

Dan hadn't cheated on her - not officially, not by definition. But it still makes it a betrayal, a sense of cheating. It doesn't matter that their official relationship status had been up in the air, a big question mark; for all intents and purposes he was still hers, linked to her by the diamond ring he'd given her and the scent of her perfume lingering on his skin. The seven years they'd spent together.

But one fight, one horrible fight, had threatened it all. Blair can't even remember what it was apart now - about some move; was it about whether they wanted to live on the Upper East or the Upper West? Or was it the one where he wanted to go out to L.A. and she wanted to go to France. In the months leading up to it they had fought about everything. He'd ordered Chinese takeout from her least favourite restaurant. She'd come home late from the office. Everything was a fight between the two of them.

Blair remembers watching him leave for the weekend, bag on his shoulder, spitting the words: "We're done, Blair."

She'd curled up in her bed, Roman Holiday on, her tabby curled up with her. Dorota had bought her soup and champagne and macarons. She had thrown her pillow against the wall and sobbed for hours. Dan had called twice, both went to voicemail. He didn't deserve to hear her voice.

Five days of silence. Five days apart. In those five days Dan had slipped, he'd slept with someone else.

He came back by the end of the week, black circles underneath his eyes and professing his love and his apology. Blair had her arms crossed against her chest before she'd thrown them around his neck, kissing her way all up his neck until she met his lips. His fingers curling up her face, holding onto her for dear life. He told her he'd never let her go again.

Two months later the truth had unravelled.

 

 

 

Katrina celebrates her fifth birthday.

Blair blocks Rufus on Instagram.

 

 

Serena's wedding is fast approaching. This fact starts to make Blair nervous, reevaluating her decision to attend. Serena might proclaim to want her there but what if she saw her and changed her mind? Blair is starting to feel ill, the kind of sick that makes her stomach do somersaults. It's not as if she really wants to be there. Her own life is in shambles currently; a broken puzzle she's yet to put together, the glue might stick for a few months but it's not all that strong. She thinks it would be a set-back in her personal life to attend the wedding of her frenemy. Isn't that just going to push her right over the edge?

She can see her now: a vision in white, golden and gleaming, her husband a dashing star or something. He'd be the envy of all the men in the room, the most beautiful boy ever seen. Blair can see him as an actor or a model that Serena has met through the scene, the two of them falling madly in love based on the fact that they were both the best looking people in the room. And Serena, the always golden girl, spinning down the aisle as if her life was a 50s technicolour musical. Her hair flowing freely down her back, braided with flowers, like some hippie white girl who's going to spell her children's names like Caedyn and Katlynn. Her dress would be designer, maybe Vera, maybe Marc, she was unpredictable in her choices at times. It would somehow manage to be sleek, cutting edge and personal; something about it would stand out to the crowd, a sliver of gold running down the front perhaps.

The wedding theme would be 'shabby-chic'. It should be hideous but Serena would manage to somehow pull it off. Everyone would be whispering the whole night, a chorus of 'oohs' and 'aahs' as the couple took to the dance floor. Meanwhile, the bridesmaid would be getting stumbling around trying to get with the groomsmen. The guests would be more obsessed with making sure everyone knew they were invited to  _this_ wedding and then be leaving around the 7:00PM mark-- "You can't expect us to stay all night." One would say, shaking their head as they exited.

Blair would be left standing around, hanging onto Nate's arm, desperately hoping for a reunion. His eyes would be on Serena the whole night and he'd suddenly declare that he was in love with her, he'd always been in love with her and stop the wedding! Serena would laugh, glamorous and glittering and say  _maybe one day, Natie_ as she broke his heart into a million little pieces. Blair would leave the wedding feeling emptier than before and wouldn't hear from Serena until the next wedding.

It's starting to look like she shouldn't go.

 

 

Dan texts her half a dozen times about coffee.

She backs out of that one.

 

 

Kati and Is host pre-wedding drinks the night before. They call it a bachelorette party, they're just missing the bride.

Blair goes along, because they were all Serena's friends first, and now they're all on the sidelines; because she's never said no to a good helping of wine; because Nate has twisted her arm into going with him. It's a whole good group of them. The original Constance alum: there's her and Nate, and she feels giddy when she sits close to him, as if they're fifteen again. There's Isabel and Kati, the gracious hosts. Penelope and Hazel sit together. There's three friends of Nate's from St Judes that Blair has long forgotten the names of. Nelly Yuki and...Dan. Blair ignores any eye contact he tries to make with her. There's Chuck, too, his arm slung sleazily around some model.

"To Serena!" Kati screams, holding up her champagne glass. The limo lurches into action and Blair rests her head back against the leather seat. It feels like she's living another life in this moment, the whole group of them gathered together, an iced bucket of various champagne bottles, a limo. Blair feels so impossibly young, so scared and hopeful and determined all at once. She feels even younger when Nate slings his arm around her shoulders and leans in to whisper a joke about Chuck in her ear. It brings a laugh to her lips and she smacks his chest. She catches sight of Dan looking at her, his eyes downcast and lips pulled downwards. She thinks he has no right to be jealous over how she's choosing to live her life now that he's not in it. She really has to work on this whole moving past him thing, she thinks.

Except, of course, a major difference is Nate would have never been this affectionate when they were young. Blair waits for the shoe to drop and for his cue to leave and for his attention to be turned elsewhere. His lack of commitment to affection is what had made her so insecure in her youth. He gave until he was bored and then he took it all away.

Dan won't stop looking at her. She can feel his gaze hot on her. Stop looking at me! She's tempted to scream. But she doesn't. She holds it in and toasts to the absent Serena, feeling silly congratulating a girl missing in action, a girl she doesn't know anymore. It's just another excuse for them all to drink, all turning up to the wedding in oversized sunglasses feeling out of their minds. Blair is too old to handle hangovers anymore; much too old to be drinking as much as she is, she's swigging back glass after glass. Nate reaches out to touch her elbow, laughing as he tells her to slow down. There is still a whole night ahead of them.

Blair never got drunk when she was young. Tipsy, sure. But blackout drunk was left for Serena, the chaotic blonde spinning around. The one Blair would carry home at the end of the night, feeding her water and painkillers and dry crackers. Teaching her how to throw up so she could feel a little better. Tucking her into bed and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Blair wonders if Serena still parties as hard as she did, she wonders if a girl like her could ever give that life up. 

Or has she mellowed out. Become zen. Become the picture perfect Los Angeles it girl. Does she drink kale smoothies and do brunch with her girlfriends on the weekends? Blair wonders if she picked up yoga. She can imagine Serena picking up every latest crazy trend. But, she also can't. Serena is as much of a New York girl as Blair is. For as much as Serena boasts about freedom, underneath it all she's just as upper class as everyone in the limo. She has that blue blood that runs dangerous. The wild soul trapped inside that could only ever belong to a New York night scene. The kind of spirit one would only be able to associate with the concrete jungle.

Blair misses her, sudden and strongly. Nate gets her another glass. Blair drinks it to forget the memory.

Dan is still looking at her when the limo comes to a sudden halt. Nelly is talking into his ear, but he doesn't shy away when Blair matches his gaze. He looks older, wrinkles crinkling in at his eyes. Being a father must be difficult, she thinks bitterly. She has always craved and denounced being a mother in one breathe. It's not a decision to make lightly, not one to waver on, and she'd wanted it and wanted it and wanted it for all the wrong reasons. And then she didn't want it at all, terrified at the prospect of children and becoming her own mother. Then she wanted it again, and then she lost it. Blair no longer likes to dwell on that period of her life. It may be the only aspect of trauma she has moved on from.

He doesn't smile at her, not once. Blair wonders if perhaps he's mad at her for not returning his texts or calls. Blair wonders if he thinks this is just another game she's playing with him. Blair wonders to herself if she's just playing another game. She muses when she'll finally grow up; hates to think of the day she does.

Nate grabs ahold of her elbow and helps her step out of the limo. "Thank you," She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck. She feels deliciously, deliriously drunk. The alcohol has invaded her mind and made the edges go a little blurry, a little fuzzy. He unwraps her arms from around his neck and presses a delicate kiss to her cheek, slipping his arm around her waist. It feels odd for him to hold her again after all these years. It feels a little cold when she makes eye contact with Dan.

Dan's touch had never felt cold. It had always felt like coming home. Blair remembers the first time she brushed her arm against Dan's, the two of them on another secret movie date, in the darkness together. Her arm had brushed against his. An electric jolt had run through her body, little shivers being sent from her head to her toes. He had quickly muttered out an apology for touching her, and she'd blushed in the dark, ashamed and confused as to why it felt so right.

"As you should be, Humphrey." She'd bit out coldly instead, creating distance between the two of them. The rest of the night she'd felt so warm she felt as if she was burning alive. Her whole body had been enflamed by his touch. She felt golden all of a sudden, golden and warm and beautiful.

The first time he hugged her she felt loved.

"I've missed you, Blair." Nate whispers in her ear. She feels giddy at the words, as if she's waited all her life to hear them. She mimics the sentiment back to Nate, and wonders how long it'll take for them to fall apart. Blair is always counting downwards, a ticking time bomb. Her heart still holds out hope for fairytale romances but she's long outgrown believing in them.

Kati and Isabel lead them into a club she's never been in before, their hands intertwined. One best friendship that has stood the test of the time. Before, way before, back before high school and minions and clubs and cliques it had been the four of them. Blair and Serena on one side, Kati and Is on the other. The foursome. But the years grew harsh and their friendships did not weather the storms presented.

It's not before long that Blair finds herself alone, in a corner of the club, watching Penelope and Hazel on the dance floor. The rest of the group has dispersed around the club. The married women and men longing for illicit affairs in the glow of the red and dark lights. Married people on the Upper East Side are always so unhappy, Blair thinks sadly, stirring her drink. Nate has long since retired to a corner of the dance floor where he's hidden from her view. He'd said he missed his girls. He said he'd missed Serena. Blair was always sick of playing second-fiddle. I want all your attention or none of it, she had always demanded from people. Nate had tried to kiss her and she'd ducked her head, kissing his cheek instead and telling him she cared for him. He's such a great friend.

Blair thinks this might be the start of her moving on. She thinks it should have happened a long time ago.

Dan finds his way into the empty seat next to her. He's always finding his way to her.

It feels intimate when he sits down, the two of them in a secluded corner, in a dark club. If this was any other night, she'd call him when she got home. Feeling brazen and bold under the influence. She just feels foolish when he looks at her, like a little girl who's been unable to grow up for all these years. He's always seen the best in her. She wonders how someone like Dan has had the capacity to hurt her so much.

"Excited for the wedding?" He asks.

Blair is so done with small-talk. It feels so weak to her now.

"I'm sorry, Dan. For what it's all worth." She says. There are rights and wrongs. There are lines she has crossed, too.

He says she has nothing to be sorry for. "It's me who's sorry. For everything, Blair. You deserved a lot better."

It's true, but it can't erase the past hurt, or start a new future.

"I really loved you." He tells her.

"I really loved you, too." She replies.

The two of them share a laugh, an inside secret, and it feels like forgiving when she rests her head against his shoulder.

 

 

Blair is pregnant and then she's not.

 

 

Dan tells her that months ago--on their break--he slept with another woman. Blair feels her insides crumble, her whole body breaking. She's been in this position too many times before to remain strong. His breathe is heavy, and she can sense another weight to fall upon her. He's leaving her, she's sure of it.

"She's pregnant." He says.

They fight for an hour and a half. She tells him to tell her to get an abortion, that there's no way he's having a child with another woman. (Not when he can't have one with her). He screams back that he can't do that, and that he wants this baby, too, and so does the mother and Blair just has to deal with it.

He doesn't call her for four days. When he does it's to tell her he can't do this anymore, he's leaving her. He hopes she can understand.

Blair thinks she deserves more than a phone-call. He says their relationship has been over for a long time, anyway.

 

 

Serena wears a traditional white dress. Her hair in a traditional bun.

Blair watches from one of the middle pews, thinking about how much she looks like a spitting image of Lily. How this goes against everything she grew up wanting. Her husband turns out to be a boring investment banker, not half as gorgeous as Blair would have imagined. Serena looks happy.

Her bridesmaids are mousy-brunettes and peroxide blondes, a group of girls that are neither particularly striking or interesting to look at. Less interesting to talk to. Most are co-workers from Serena's boutique. Her cousin is up there, too.

Blair claps when they kiss and feels no sadness in her heart, the way she expected to.

She makes eye contact with Serena briefly, and she flashes her a smile that says,  _we're all forgiven, it's all the past_ and then she catches Dan's eyes and she smiles at him so big she thinks her lips might break. He smiles back, and there's a shared  _we'll figure it out_ communicated between them as they leave the church.

 

 

_I am over needing you, but I might just want you._


End file.
